


Son shine and pink flamingos

by kingster



Series: Pride and other stories [8]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Drunkenness, Fluff, Gen, Hawaii: bikers Nangijala, Implied Slash, Juice wearing a Hawaiian shirt, M/M, Season/Series 07 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3084515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingster/pseuds/kingster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An epilogue written cause I wanted something better for them. And who doesn't?<br/>---<br/>Warning: Spoilers for season 7.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Son shine and pink flamingos

Even Happy breaks down when Patterson comes to tell us that Jax is dead. Followed by a tail of cop cars and bikes he drove straight into a trailer, no hands on the wheel. JTs old bike is a wreck. No chance for an open coffin. I'm thankful Patterson shows up herself: I take it as a sign of respect. She even looks sad.

Four mornings in a row I wake up, relief washing over me as I think: it was just a dream. Thank God.

In a matter of seconds I realize that it's not. Jax is dead, Juice is dead, Bobby is dead, Gemma is dead, Wayne fucking Unser is dead.

And it should feel good to be the President, but when most of your friends are dead, it's got a sour taste to it.

The fifth night, I talk to Juice. He comes walking into TM one morning, and even in my dream I'm fairly certain it's a dream: not only is he alive and well, he also wears a black Hawaiian shirt with pink flamingos on.

I put down whatever I'm holding, walk straight over to him, and put my arms tightly around him.

"Morning Chibs," he says, a slight confusion in his voice. A few seconds pass, and I should have let go of him by now, but there's just no way. Dream or not. I squeeze him a little harder. I've missed the way he smells.

"Uh, Chibs, man," he asks me, patting my back reassuringly, "are you okay?"

-No, I answer in my head, -I'm not okay, I'm shit.

"I've just missed you," I tell him instead as I release him from the hug. I look away.

"...You've missed me since yesterday? I left here at ten last night. It's been like... 11 hours."

I shrug. He's trying to meet my eyes. I don't want to look at him.

"Are you drunk?"

I shake my head.

"Jax told you not to drink at the garage."

"I'm not drunk, Juice."

I can tell he doesn't quite believe me. Eventually I look at him. He focuses in on my eyes, makes up his mind, and nods slowly. His skepticism wears off.

"I thought you were dead," I mumble.

"Dead?! Dude, what's up with you today?" he sounds almost indignant.

"Yeah, in Stockton... I thought Tully..." I stop there cause he's obviously not dead, and this conversation is just making me seem crazier by the second. I point to his shirt instead. "What's with the aloha?"

He stares blankly at me. I shrug and make a face back at him like 'how the fuck should I know'.

"I'm going to Hawaii...?!" he says. When I don't respond do that, he continues: "With Jax...? To help Clay set up the new charter...?" He looks at me, waiting for an eureka-moment that never really happens for me, cause none of this is making any sense, and I look back at him, wondering when this is. Cause it's gotta be a when. A when I haven't been in. A when where we are still friends and Juice wears stupid shirts and thinks I'm the idiot for not understanding. A when where Clay lives in Hawaii? Cause really - it sounds ridiculous.

"Yeah, yeah, " I say eventually, figuring I just gotta hack this. "I just uh... you know... my head's been elsewhere."

His face turns into a smile. "For a moment I thought you had a breakdown or something."

We laugh together, but for completely different reasons. I wanna ask him about everything. About Clay, about Jax. About him. How much time to I have?

"When do you leave?" I ask.

"The flight is a six. Jax's coming in later. He wants us at the table at four."

 _Jax's coming in later!_ When the realization hits me, I have strain myself from not bursting out in laughter. Jax wants us at the table at four. Cause Jax is still our president, and he's doing fine, like Juice is doing fine (well, except for the outfit) and... wow, it's a lot to take in. I find myself grinning to the point where Juice asks me one more time if I'm not even a little bit drunk. And I tell him I've had two for breakfast, knowing that I probably never look this happy without whisky, and he just laughs, says he knew it. It's alright though, he won't tell Jax.

"Well, I got some stuff I need to finish before I leave. I'll be inside." He turns to leave. I stop him, knowing all to well that I might not ever get a chance to see him again, and he gives me an open, curious look.

"What?"

Yeah. What, exactly? As I struggle to find the right words, an idea sidetracks me.

"Do you know if Bobby..." I trail off, not knowing how to ask without Juice starting to think I've gone off the deep end again, and he nods, says yeah, he's picking us up at the airport.

I smile, nod. Bobby Elvis in Hawaii. What a pretty picture.

"Sounds good. You tell him hi from me." I squeeze the back of his neck with my right hand, and kiss his forehead. "I love you, brother."

He looks a little surprised, eyes soft as he repeats it back to me. "You know I'll be back in a couple of weeks, right?" he adds.

"Of course," I lie, feeling like I'm getting a hang of this.

He smiles shyly, points at the house as to explain why he has to go. And as I stand there, looking at Juice walking away with his flamingos, I smell a faint smell of coffee.

\---

I wake up to a familiar voice, and someone kicking my legs. "Hey, Chibs, wake up. Can't just lay here all day. Breakfast's ready."

I open my eyes reluctantly. I'm not at home. I'm on a couch I've slept on before, two shadows standing over me.

A familiar southern accent appears. "Alexander, show some decency! That's no way to treat a poor, hung over friend."

Venus, dressed in a white robe, sits down on the edge of the couch, and strokes her hand over my forehead. "Chibs-darling, wake-up. Coffee's fresh."

"Sounds great, Venus," I manage, my voice rusty. "Thank you."

She smiles a sweet smile, and leaves for the kitchen. I look at Tig, and realize that I'm in this apartment. Someone has taken off my shoes, cut, and jacket. They're neatly placed on a wooden chair by the couch.

"Can't remember how I got here," I tell him, trying to get up. "Can't remember anything..."

Tig rushes over, grabs my arm to stabilize me as I'm about to fall over. I've got the headache of the century.

"Whoa, easy there, Chibs. It's alright. We brought you here. Venus insisted. Said it's bad luck to leave a man that drunk alone."

"I'm sorry," I say shamefully. "I can't remember..."

"S'allright." He puts his arm around my waist and guides me to the kitchen. "Let's get you some food. You've had a rough night."

The small table in the kitchen is set for three. As I sit down, Venus pours me a cup of black coffee, and Tig offers me painkillers, eggs and bacon. I say yes, please to everything. In the few minutes it takes them to settle down I notice a postcard in the windowsill, leaning against the window. It's a picture of a topless girl standing beside a palm-tree on a sandy beach, the ocean and sky behind her are both bright blue.

"Hawaii?" I point to the card as Tig sits down.

He looks at the picture of the bare-chested girl, then turns at me with a mischievous look. "Aloha, baby."

 

\---  

 

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you that haven't read Astrid Lindgren's book "The Lionheart Brothers": you absolutely should.


End file.
